


Amending Leisures

by awdorkable_turtle_epidemic



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-22 05:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6067036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awdorkable_turtle_epidemic/pseuds/awdorkable_turtle_epidemic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And he, the all-mysterious Shadow the Hedgehog, the creation of Ivo Robotnik that saved the world countless times and kept returning from deaths that were never damned—what did he do when everyone wasn't looking? He's here, in a bar, settling in the darkest corner of a bottle. He just didn't expect her to be here, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written date: 03-04-13  
> I took it down (don't remember why) and I'm posting it again. The chapters are already written out, so I'll be putting them up weekly.

On a night where the air was warm with summer and murky with the settling fog that sunk into the cracked grounds like old friends, hushing the atmosphere into daunting humidity, a lone hedgehog made his way through the suburban parts of the streets, a more or less scrawnier area where crime was not a stranger. A casting loom settled over his namesake on the ground, following him into the clutches of a random pub that filtered the lucid scent of gratifying alcohol.

Shadow the Hedgehog… on his off-hours… what else would he do?

Honestly, the victim of his often well-thought insults and threats spent his off-time in the leisure of a wooden house belonging to a mastermind fox while consuming that strange dog meat and watching reruns of his own heroic acts or of action movies that played a bunch of fascists holding plastic guns. The fox kit of whom the victim of his often well-though insults and threats spent his off-time  _with_  spent his own time building intangible machines and mechanisms with his hero's name on them. The red echidna's past-time was more obvious than anything. The doctor just came up with more and more defective plans to overtake the world. Rouge just sniffed for trouble, harassing pedestrians or robbing banks.

And he, the all-mysterious Shadow the Hedgehog, the creation of Gerald Robotnik that saved the world countless times and kept returning from deaths that were never damned—what did he do when everyone wasn't looking? When he isn't dragged into some stupid world crisis and the world decides to turn their cameras on him?

' _He probably finds a dark alley to wait in, stare mysteriously into the dark, like the dark hero he is. Shadow the Hedgehog, staring at the moon and thinking dark stuff, 'cause he's all dark like that.'_

He wouldn’t be able to find a bigger load of trash if he’d tried.

 ** _No_** —so when Shadow the Hedgehog wasn't trying to save the world, or aiding in the doctor's plans, or just being mysterious in the background like the shadowy bravado people had labeled him with while Sonic the Cuntbag pranced around in front of the flashes, he was here. In a bar.

He pulled in, taking a quiet seat on a stool, tipping his hat lower, keeping his eyes as so. His eyes. His red eyes. His identifier. Sonic the Hedgehog didn't have cruel, evil eyes as red as his.

Screw him.

A pause… and he breathed out as he surveyed an analysis of the room. A low roofed place, musky, crawling with filth-dwellers and rumbling with the quiet blur of voices melding in cusses or agony. The stools to his left were almost empty, every other being occupying one had at least a four-seat distance between the next chap, and there was one couple of potential prostitutes lounging nearby the center seats, their scrutinizing eyes played to Shadow of their hunt for game enough to score over fifty bucks. To blend in with the whores come the big mutants passing off as beings, and thugs who stabbed you for walking past them, all churning with the heavy scent of sweat, body retentions, and an unmistakable aroma of a symphony of sweet alcohol gave bear as to any other stroll-in-the-slums bar. It wasn't those bars that were clean, or imitated a school-like the PG-13 version of the story, which is somehow how it always flipped as. It was those bars that you knew existed in life, but only existed in your imagination, where it's never as bad as it really is.

"Can I get you something, sir?" His shoulders tensed under the oversized coat, a cliché of something bland and unnoticeable. Making sure to keep his face hidden, a sense of foreboding dread leaked into his gut—he  _knew_  that voice—he risked a glance up, surprising himself enough to slack for a moment, for their eyes to meet and he had to confirm.

Her mouth parted a little, and he saw the instant recognition that struck, and he waited. Waited for the yell, or the 'what are you doing here?!' or the whiny 'get out!' or something that he could familiarize himself with. He saw it, too. The flittering curiosity in her eyes, hanging heavily and desperately, and still he waited for a loud response of some sort, even an accusation, but instead, the mouth that had opened for a question let out a rush of air instead of words, pursing tightly as a strange focus settled in her eyes. Squaring her shoulders, she repeated.

"Can I get you something, sir?" He felt a little twitch inside of him, whether of the peculiarity of the situation or the irony that he wished to ask her the same question that she hid from him.

He wanted to laugh, too, except he never _really_ laughed before so he wasn't sure how it felt like or when the timing was. He couldn't even remember her name. He knew that he knew it. It was there, buried somewhere in his mind. He quirked at the crevices, tugging at nostalgic strings to give him acknowledgement or-

 _Rose_. Rose. He didn't remember her first name, but he was sure of it—that her last name was Rose. Or she had Rose somewhere in her name.

Maybe.

And he wanted to. He really wanted to ask her—why little Sonic-loving Rose was in front of him in one of the slummiest bars he'd ever been to. The curiosity was nagging him, and he inquisitively studied her, tugging at something habitual to pull to the surface, but she held steady under his gaze, eyes averted, but posture strong.

And she was nervous. He knew she was. He had that effect on people.

He leaned in closer, his breath heavy and eyes intense. Get it over with seemed the better option—or he just wanted that diverted reaction. "Ask me."

Her response shot him with something of curiosity and amusement. A fiery glare narrowed her eyes, and she shifted on her other foot, a strange form of determination and  _defiance_  settling over her.

"Can I get you something,  _sir_?" Something lit. In her eyes or in his stomach, and he knew it was the way she said it, or something… fervent he found burning under her skin, under that tongue, under that absent sweet voice.

"Ask me." The demand served as a sort of temptation for her, something she adamantly refused to cave into.

"It is within my job restrictions: no invading on the customer's personal life. You answer, but I don't ask." His eyes narrowed, but something of an intrigued grin attempted to poke at his mouth, and perhaps it was because he knew—he knew how bad she wanted to ask him but that she wouldn't let herself succumb to it, and somewhere, somewhere,  _somewhere_ , he felt something deep within him tip to molten and feverish.

"Look, I have other customers to tend to." Her impatient tone struck something through him, gave him appeasement at her discomfort. For that moment in the night, perhaps which would lead to the hereafter, he had forgotten which Rose she was, or  _whose_  Rose she was.

But he wouldn't ask. It wasn't like him to ask. So he wasn't going to. Asking meant he was curious, and asking meant admitting it, so  ** _no_** , he wasn't going to ask.

And with all that liquor behind her, not even that amount would persuade him…

"One last time with no straight answer and I'm off:  _can I get you something, Shadow_?" She frowned, and perhaps she hadn't noticed that she had called his name, but he did. He noticed the way she shifted from one foot to the other, from one hip up to the other down. He noticed the way she bit her lips at her anxiety, and the way she eyed the other corners of the bar, refusing to meet his eyes.

He felt… sick.

His mouth moved to the tune of the cheapest whiskey, and she blinked uncomprehendingly for a moment before turning to leave.

And the sick feeling got heavier.

_Stay…_

She blinked, giving him a peculiar look, and it took him three full seconds to realize he had spoken aloud.

She frowned, "I have a job to do."

His mouth moved before he did. "Why?"

She looked… annoyed. "I need to make a living."

This time he managed to hold himself before anything slipped, and she took her leave. Shadow on his off-hours with nothing better to do… he pondered. He never wondered of Rose's life outside of chasing the blue imbecile. Never really thought of what went beyond what he'd seen.

And it didn't matter to him.

He didn't speak to her for the rest of the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written date: 03-04-13  
> I took it down (don't remember why) and I'm posting it again. The chapters are already written out, so I'll be putting them up weekly.

A Tuesday came and he found himself walking back to that bar. It had taken him a while to retrace it, seeing the first time he'd come in it was at random and he had been aimless.

He didn't even know if she worked on Tuesdays.

Okay… okay, he wasn't going to be stupid and lie to his own self. He was curious. He was. Denying it would be like a slap to his intelligence since all he'd been thinking about for the past four days was the fact that he had found Ms. Sunshine working at a grungy bar. At first, despite the calling in his mind where whispers clawed cravings, he avoided even stepping route. Admittedly, by the third day, he was semi-desperate enough to actually go out and scrounge for the blue hedgehog, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and prove that by some illogical aspect he had seen her twin on that night.

And on the fourth he went back to the bar.

The sign was too damaged to read and glowed faintly, on the verge of breaking down and falling on some unsuspecting patron, like right where he stood. The front was littered with garbage, but that was merely the disposition of the neighborhood. Shadow being himself, he was the one people feared to run into on streets like these.

She, though…

It wasn't like he had that much of a frigid persona devoid of any emotion. He had loved a human girl once. He was capable of that, and he understood that he came off as hostile. Why wouldn't he? All these humans and disgusting creatures… none of them were like the Maria he had grown up with. These organisms spat on the image that was his Maria, and it sickened him. Their ugliness, their flaws—all absent of the things Maria was and what she believed in them.

And purpose, reason—he had filled them for his existence being, so what now?

what now what now what now what now what now what now what now what now what now what now what now what now what now

How many times did he ask?

Why didn't anyone ever answer?

It hollowed him. Left him empty. Empty enough that this—this curiosity, this sick, warm, alien feeling filled him with something. So he latched onto to it.

Hell, it wasn't like he had anything better to do. He really didn't.

And with that, he stepped into the bar.

* * *

How many hours had he already spent here—five? Six?

Much would scoff about his lack of a life, but everything they would say would be true, so no point on even dwelling on it.

Of course, the fact that she didn't work on these nights came to mind much every couple of two to three seconds, and he tried to convince himself to leave, he really did. Find a nicer bar or prowl the alleys or something, but instead he sat in his seat on the stool on the far end, and in the most manner that he was insulting himself over, sulked.

By this time and hour, there was no way she'd even come to work, but he didn't budge anyway.

Behind the bar, a rough cough hacked with a thick cake of heavy cigarettes sounded loudly; a thick, bulky, meaty character of sorts cleaning the glasses with an unsanitary cloth. "Man, I can't tell if you're being held up by a needy hooker or you're getting' cheaped out of some desperate deal."

Shadow glared at the man, the irritation of having waited hours in a dirty bar, or more out of his frustration over the every second mental beatings and ponderings—it gave him an edge enough to respond. "I thought it was your policy to stay out of customer business."

Usually, with the way he hissed, the way he looked, or the obvious malicious aura he gave off, people backed down or just avoided him. This dumb shot at luck wore this sadistic sort of grin, like he was enjoying a game of poker with a heady reward and cards that smiled at him.

A humorous chortle came as an answer; the man talking more to himself. "Policy? You think we have that sort of garbage in 'ere? That's not a policy, it's a warning. Don't ask so you don't get punched in the face." The guy leaned closer, his eyes squinting into a mocking glare, "Obviously, I've got an iron jaw for that stuff."

Shadow wasn't in the mood. "Go away."

"Feelin' up to pickin' on my customers." Beady eyes challenged him, "You're that twin of the blue one, yeh?"

It wasn't the first time he was accused of this, but he was Shadow the Hedgehog, and he didn't take crap from people—especially filthy humans like this guy.

His fist smashed the wooden countertop as he prepared himself to correct every aspect that this human spilled in absolute deprecation against the very moralized idea that the sweet Maria thought humans to have in light of qualities where bastards like these men repeatedly ground their feet upon.

And then his hand was warm. A gloved appendage covered his own. "Cut it out, will you? I'll take care of this."

His eyes met hers, a militant green, and in the slums of the city, in a grungy old bar at 2:43 A.M, Shadow felt something he never took the liberty to notice before.

His heartbeat.

One did not stop and take in the ever repetitive beat of his heart, for if he was checking it then surely he was alive. In battle, he'd felt his heart quicken and thump wildly. In nocturne, he was sure it slowed down in rest. These things happened, and he was aware of them, so he never bothered to entertain the thought of anything relating so.

But this was different, because his heart didn't slow down like before that callings of unconsciousness or speed up in hollers to adrenaline. To hell and all, it actually stopped. He was sure of it. For that small second, that continuing thump decided to take a leave of absence and he felt it. He felt it in a way that he could have never felt more strongly about something.

"I won't apologize for his behavior, because that would just be pointless, right?" She gave him a half-hearted smile, and the sudden breeze was noticeable at the leave of her hand. "Can I get you anything?"

He stared blankly at her, not giving away any thought with whatever emotion he could pass on.

She blinked, giving him pause before settling for a scowl. "Then don't mind me, but I have to attend to other customers."

"Why?" He let the question slip, but if he got an answer that would satisfy his nagging curiosity then he wouldn't regret asking.

Because having the sweet Amy Rose who loved Sonic more than the world and battled alongside her friends and had tea parties with little Cream was not supposed to be working in some dirty bar in the hours past appropriate.

"It's none of your business." She snapped stiffly with a flare of anger enough to sear his fur.

And she was right. He knew that. He had finished concluding that fact around day two, but still, he wondered.

And since he couldn't come up with a decent response, he settled for watching her for the rest of the night till morning well rose.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written date: 03-04-13  
> I took it down (don't remember why) and I'm posting it again. The chapters are already written out, so I'll be putting them up weekly.

 

* * *

"You're not old enough to be licensed to give out alcohol." He stated apathetically.

The glare she gave him was murderous. "Mind your own business."

He made a point to scrutinize her the rest of night, finding something sickly heartwarming at her irritation.

* * *

"There are much better bars, you know." She commented off-handedly, cleaning jugs with a just and hygienic hand. It was another week on another day that Shadow had come to visit this bar again, and a three week attendance record was enough for her to stop evading him and giving him proper chat.

He considered her remark for a moment, "I know."

Her eyebrows furrowed; more in confusion than distaste. "You come here too often to not have the money to afford a better drink at a better place."

"Hn."

"Then…" She might've asked, but she stopped herself.

And for the fact that he had absolutely nothing to do in the world, and that he found her interesting _(her. Her, of all people. He wanted to laugh but couldn't find where the joke ended)_ , for the second time he encouraged someone to question in regard to know him better.

"Ask me." He urged softly.

"I'm not sure I-"

He interrupted her with a comment he would have usually kept in his mind, had he been on the side where he didn't want the person to continue whatever stupid conversation the being had attempted to press them with, which here was not the case. Shadow understood the morals of socializing; he just never liked applying them because he didn't like people. It was a simple, crude fact, but it was just the way Shadow was.

Amy was different though. He was curious about her, and so he put those nascent skills to use.

"Job policies be damned. Ask me." This one actually got him a surprised look, right before a straight-up laugh. He wasn't sure why she was laughing, or whether her laugh was in the matter of insulting him _(maybe she reached the end of the joke)_. He couldn't decide. Not while his chest tightened strangely like this. He was worried his blood vessels might be clotting or his lungs must have not corresponded with his diaphragm causing a collapse or perhaps he was suffering a heart attack.

"What?" He snapped, and she drowned her laugh into a bubbly giggle.

"No, it's just…" She shrugged, "I've never really talked to you before, so it's just strange to be talking to you of all people like this."

He would've given her some snarky remark, but she froze his veins with the grin she gave him.

"Hmph." He felt his cheeks tighten against his jaws, and he was warm, everything was getting warmer and he hadn't touched his drink so why did he hide his face and why was it so warm and _why was the stupid girl laughing?_

This wasn't like him—to feel so funny. He should've known digging himself into something other than his own would affect him in some way.

But this wasn't about the fact that he was feeling funny, or that she was laughing at him, or that he wasn't acting like his usual self. Shadow had been alone for so long. So _long_.

And for that lengthy time, so many things had happened. He had driven into the darkness and back, his purpose had been questioned, his identity had been asked to fraud, and in the end he was left with nothing.

And this was different. This was **_something_** , and that was all the reason to hold onto and never let go.

"Alright then…" She placed the jug down, catching his eye. "Why do you come here, Shadow?"

And because she said his name and made his chest flare, he answered her honestly, "Because you're here."

She blinked, her face suddenly taking resemblance to a delicate wine, "Wh- ** _what_**?!"

He blinked, a sense of confusion poking at him, wondering why she was reacting like that.

She slapped her hands on her cheeks, burying her face from him. "E-ehh, _Shadow_! Don't say such embarrassing stuff like that!"

Despite his confusion, he found himself feeling… amused. "Why not? I was being truthful."

She went even redder, sputtering profusely. "B-but! Ahh… well…" She peered at his face through her lashes, scratching her cheek as she tried to off-handedly dismiss the red from her cheeks, "Wh…Why would you come here because of _m-me_?"

And so his honesty shone. "Because I want to know why you work in a place like this."

She blinked, opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "…is that all?"

He found himself even more curious, "Should there be more?"

She shook her head, looking at him in a sort of… relief? "No, it's just… you had me worried for a little while there."

"Why?"

And then she wore a strange look, shaking her head and giving off an even stranger smile. "You should choose your words more carefully. I didn't have to want to turn down anyone because of Sonic."

He was even more confused, and just a little bit spiteful that the blue hedgehog wormed his way into their conversation, but was stopped as she began speaking once more.

"Why do you even want to know so badly?" She smiled amusedly, leaning over the bar a bit.

Oh, he'd asked himself the same question many times, so he was prepared to answer her. "I don't know."

She blinked—not the answer she was expecting, but since this was Shadow, and she knew this wasn't like him, to want to know, so she told him.

"I work here because I need the money." She stated, as if that simple sentence explained all.

"That's not informative enough." He scoffed. "Don't play this stupidly."

She glared at him, but answered him anyway, leaning back as she stretched her arms. "My mother died when I was young and my father ran off on me a couple of years ago, and he left me with nothing. No relatives and no money. I can't go to school since I barely have enough to keep myself up, so I have to work a couple of low-budget occupations to keep a roof over my head and eat." His face must've been playing on an incredulous field, but she frowned at him for his dubiousness. "I'm being serious."

"But… the mayor—with saving the day, shouldn't you…" She shook her head, interrupting him.

"No, _Sonic_ is the one who gets the gifts and money. Tails, too, occasionally. I'm only a side-liner, so my reward is praise. When I'm not helping Sonic save the day, then I have to work here and there." She shrugged nonchalantly, "The cost for living isn't free, you know."

There could've been a million other reasons why Amy was working in an awful bar. She stumbled here by accident and got herself into some trouble, she was doing undercover labor, or she had a desire to scout out dirty old bars for entertainment. It honestly never occurred to him that Amy worked here because she _needed_ to. She always seemed so carefree and happy on the outside, holding her fist high amongst her allies—so full of energy and not a bother in the world.

He had once envied her blithe state in life. She always seemed… _seemed_ …

He never knew…

His silent thoughts were interrupted as a small, attention-attracting beep resounded, and he followed the source to Amy's watch. 9:00 A.M

"Alright, I'm getting off!" She announced to her fellow workers, although the bar itself was empty save for him and this other passed-out man in a corner.

He waited, watching as she escaped to the back in a slightly dirty white blouse and ruffled jeans to her accustomed laser red dress with accessories and all.

She seemed to get the idea that he was waiting on her, so she paused as she was leaving to let him catch up.

"So what do you have planned for today?" She questioned, quite cheerfully for someone who had been working for six hours into the morning.

"What do _you_ have planned for today?" They stepped outside into the bright sun, both hedgehogs a little disoriented from being in a dimly lit room. Stepping onto the cracked sidewalk, Amy began her trek, allowing Shadow to keep a lazy pace beside her.

"Well…" She checked her watch, "I've got another half-hour before I have to head to my next job, so I was hoping I could stop and say hello to Sonic."

He wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he didn't. Perhaps he should've turned the other direction, but he kept his feet in sync with hers. Besides, despite the morning, the streets here could still be pretty hazardous.

"This neighborhood is too dangerous to walk through, especially at the hours you work at." He stated suddenly. She tensed a little, pulling at her dress.

"Yes, well… it can't be helped. The pay here isn't so bad. At least, this bar is too low on the chart for a cop to be scurrying and wondering why someone my age is handing out alcohol. There aren't many jobs available for someone like me, especially since I don't have an education or much else to offer. So I just make the best of it." She skipped over a rock, grinning a bit, but her smile faded a little as a thought passed through her head.

"Can we… can we not mention this to… to Sonic? Or anyone else for the matter?"

He felt a blender of sensations, and admittedly, not all were very positive. He just felt… affected. He stopped in his tracks. She froze, a sudden fear for his anger or something rash of the sort from him emerging.

"No… no one else knows… about this?"

A little shakily, she answered. "N-no…"

"… Why would you tell _me_ then?"

Good question. "I… I'm not sure."

They stood in silence, and Amy pondered worriedly over what was going through the black hedgehog's mind. The response she got was not something she had been expecting.

"It's settled, then." He gave a curt nod, to himself or to her, she wasn't sure. "I'll be escorting you from now on."

"…what?" She gave him an alien look.

"The streets are obviously too dangerous, especially in the late hours you work in, so from now on, I'll be taking you to and from your jobs."

"…You're kidding, right?" She blinked, giving him a wry smile, before a moment's while passed and the stern look on his face refused to lift, "…holy rings, you're not kidding."

He lifted a brow at her, and she frowned, frustrated.

It was going to take a decent argument to get herself out of this one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written date: 03-04-13  
> I took it down (don't remember why) and I'm posting it again. The chapters are already written out, so I'll be putting them up weekly.

 

* * *

"Sonic! Sonic!" From a distance, he watched as she bellowed cheerfully at the blue hedgehog, fruitlessly trying to wrestle a hug out of him.

Amy… on her off hours from the camera.

It's been about three months since his strange, aberrant twist in his standard life with his decision to look over the small pink hedgehog. It turned out for the better, supposedly, and in a sort of way, gave him resolve for a purpose, one that strengthened and consolidated by the day.

Amy Rose's life was not the one you would expect.

She spent long hours at a bar, two brand-less clothing stores, and a fast-food joint just to make money to keep up rent and food (apparently, as a candidate of her age and stature, they would never hire her unless she put up with the ridiculously low wage, but given her poor situation, she didn't have much of a choice.). She barely ever had enough sleep, and should eat more than the juggle she put up with. She often had to walk between dangerous streets, with nothing but the protection of the clothes on her back (and a hammer, so she claims.). Her bosses were often shameless and rotten, and had no reservations with treating young Amy Rose like the crap they spouted. She had no future, whatsoever, and in most words, her life was going nowhere.

But she never let go of that smile.

Despite all the hopelessness and despondency in her state of life, Amy Rose still found the will to hold up her head and smile a smile that brightened the sun and warmed the day.

Never in his life here on this horrid up planet had he ever met someone so incredibly _stupid_ , yet so full of faith that despite the everlasting bleakness resounding with every step she took, she still found the tenacity to smile at others.

To not be corrupt by bitterness or misery, to be so strong like that—a respect he'd never known blossomed under his chest, and with that came this overwhelming protectiveness that he could not rid himself of, nor control.

It had taken her a while to get used to his presence looming over her shoulder, but as given with the rest of her progress in life, she did not dwell on things that caused her inconvenience or discomfort and made an effort to make the best of his ever shadowing existence.

"You can't run from me forever, Sonic!" He heard her laugh merrily as she made an attempt to chase the blue hedgehog as he ran away. What a regular scene, though. Amy would always attempt to catch Sonic, although she just wasn't fast enough.

If they only knew.

It wasn't a factor of speed, as most would think because no one could ever really catch Sonic the Hedgehog, in spite of Amy Rose's foolish attempts to do so, but it never was a factor of speed.

It was the weight of having to work seventeen repetitive hours a day with so little rest. No one can just shrug off fatigue. Not even Amy.

He watched her intently as she walked back to him, the widest grin on her face.

He didn't understand.

Almost every day, she took one of those hours that she could have been using for sleep, and used them to track down Sonic. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why she would waste such precious time to find the blue idiot and hassle him. Still, she did whenever she could. She'd find him and hide her worries and smile merrily and offer him time Shadow _knew_ she _needed_ , and every time he'd grin nervously at her and run off, disposing of that precious while she had just spent on him and rendering it worthless, and the thought and sight of the whole ordeal made Shadow's blood simmer dangerously.

* * *

"Why bother?" He asked her, peering curiously as she stood in front of a mirror in the bathroom of some random restaurant.

With careful precision, she pulled out jarred contents, each filled with strange powder and mashed goo of sorts, and with each its own utility, she began dabbing the likes under her eye, hiding away the heavy bags like magic.

"Because…" She held such focus as she applied the make-up, most of which was self-made, or so he was told, but given the fact that she probably couldn't afford make-up, he believed her. "…it makes me happy."

"Why in all that is logical would wasting living moments on that blue idiot give any sort of pleasure?" She smiled in the mirror.

"It's not meant to be logical when it's love, Shadow." He frowned at that.

"Then why love him?"

She sighed, giving him an exasperated look. "I just do."

He pressed further. "There has to be _reason_."

"He's heroic." She brushed away at her hair, fixing her headband in place.

"He doesn't seem to be the hero in your story." She scowled precariously at him.

"Don't drag him into that. I don't want Sonic to know because if he did then he'd be all over me, trying to help me."

He shifted against the wall, not even blinking as another woman entered the bathroom, only to catch sight of the frightening male and scurry out in a scream, and since Amy didn't seem fazed or complain or even pay mind to it, he lounged around in the women's washroom with her. "What's so bad about that?"

"I don't _want_ help. Besides, Sonic can't help being drawn to damsels in distress, or, well, anyone in distress, really. I'd have his attention for all the wrong reasons."

He didn't press on that any further. Amy was too stubborn, especially on being independent. She wouldn't even let him help her, although she didn't mind him buying her an occasional meal.

"Another reason."

"Alright…" She thought for a moment, wiping a purple cream of sorts on her cheeks. "…he cares about his friends."

"Enough that he runs away every time you latch onto him." She frowned.

"Sonic's just bad with romance and affection." She scrubbed her face with white powder. "Why is this topic in question?"

"I'm trying to make sense of this illogical occurrence." Amy paused for a moment. Her face turned to him with this soft expression that made his heart lurch.

"He makes me smile, and that's what makes me come back to him."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally written date: 03-04-13  
> I took it down (don't remember why) and I'm posting it again. The chapters are already written out, so I'll be putting them up weekly.

 

* * *

He watched as she pulled out a jar, cramming the wrinkled money into it in a collection of other accumulated spare change.

"What are you doing?"

She sat on the futon, shifting a bit as she pulled more out of her pocket and stuffed it into the jar. "Saving up."

He switched legs from his position on the wall, leaning against the hard wood of the small one room cottage he built himself in the preceded case of heavy weather where he'd take provision from.

Yet, since this was the closest thing to 'home' he had, Amy insisted on coming here.

And to be honest, in a small act of cowardice, he was a little worried what he might do if he saw where Amy lived, and he worried what she'd do after seeing his reaction.

Would she kick him out? Force him to leave? Tell him to never see her again?

These things bothered him more than they should, more than the he wanted to. It was the cold in his lungs when her knees wobbled and the burning in his teeth when her fingers fidgeted.

(he can't pinpoint when exactly he cared so much but it might have been the way she touched his elbow and a smile and sometime after thinking of Maria)

He wouldn't dare carelessly make her uncomfortable.

He would not ask her to take him to her home.

It was best to just let her decide to visit his home till the time came when she wanted to show him hers.

"For _what_?"

"It'll be December soon enough, and a lot of the folks here celebrate Christmas, so it's fun to get in on the action. I need to save up so I can buy everybody gifts." She stated so simply, oblivious to how contrary he felt at that moment.

Anger. Anger was the most prominent. This hot, white, fury that drove him in the cold days of October—a side of him he simply couldn't control, and would probably regret revealing to her.

(the red in his blood was in his vision was in his nails was in his voice and it was why he was feared)

"You… You **_idiot_**!" His venomous hiss surprised her so much she almost dropped the jar. "How can you be so incredibly **_stupid_**?! So _beyond_ , _insanely_ **_thoughtless_** to the point of even deciding to _waste_ your money on such an idea! How could you even _think_ of buying _other_ people **gifts** when you can barely hold yourself up?! You could be using the money for more food, or a better home, or-…" His voice died—ripped from him, really, at the tremble in her cheeks and stains dripping over them and it built into this clawing, wretched sensation that sunk his chest into his stomach.

And that fear. He saw it in her eyes, and it crushed him in a way he didn't think possible. His skin tightened and folded, suffocating him.

(hadn't he said he wouldn't hurt her the world hurt her enough and he wasn't supposed to be a part of that-!)

He was supposed to keep her from that, supposed to make sure she always smiled that beautiful smile an-

His heart stopped. He was dead, no question about it. He wasn't breathing anymore.

Oh, no wait. He couldn't breathe because Amy was kissing him.

And _oh dear lord she was kissing him and she was so soft and he didn't know what to do-_

She pulled back, an alien expression on her face. She refused to meet his eye, and she smelled of the flowers she rubbed on her ears on the path to work and of fatigue and cheer. She breathed with silence, watching him, gaze retreating cautiously. He realized she was silent out of guilt and (why was she guilty he was the one that messed up he needed to fix this but how-) he didn't know what else to do so he pulled her by the shoulders and kissed her too.

Although, he really didn't know _what_ he was supposed to do so he just hugged her tighter until she whimpered against his lips and out of worry he pulled back and searched her face.

"Are… you alright?"

Her face held puzzlement. The trace her tears left were fading.

"Me? I'm…" She huffed out breathily, her eyes never a brighter green than at this moment. "I'm… umm… I'm _fine_."

She brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked away with a blush that poured warmth into Shadow. He didn't know what was happening. He could still smell her. Her fur was warm and she was _so close_ and he didn't want to let her go.

"You… umm… you kissed me back…?" She would not meet his gaze and it bothered him. He tilted his head towards her and caught her eye, and somehow the heat on her cheeks deepened and Shadow worried she might be sick.

"Is…" This was foreign territory to him. He wasn't sure how to respond. "Is that bad?"

" _Bad?_!" Amy choked on a laugh and gave him a nervous smile. "Yes, it's bad but no-we-you-you were supposed to get angry and umm… run off and I…"

"I was supposed to get angry… and leave?" He wondered what his face looked like at the moment.

"Well, yes! I didn't expect you to kiss me back!" She finally looked into his eyes and saw the hurt and confusion there and so she put her hands on his cheeks and mumbled whiningly, "I didn't think I'd like it so much, either… of all people, you're _Shadow_ for crying out loud."

And she couldn't help herself so she kissed him again and he couldn't help himself so he pulled her close.

"Is that bad?" He pulled away but she cut him off by yanking him back to her.

"It's… not _bad_." She somehow got through between openings of air. The air around them built up, feeling with intensity and forcing them together to keep themselves up. "But…" She stopped him, taking note of how breathless he was and how red his cheeks were and she wondered if she reciprocated him. "I thought that if kissed you, you'd get angry at me and leave."

He would have interpreted that as to her wanting him to leave, but even he knew enough that the tugging of her arms, pulling him to her, spoke otherwise. "Why would you want me to go?"

"Because…" She pulled him closer and closer, something unfamiliar blossoming under her chest, right at her throat, pouring molten fuzz into her stomach. She pressed her cheek against him, feeling suddenly if she looked him in the eye she'd break down.

How did it unexpectedly become like this in a span of _minutes_? She had been fine before that, but now she had a consciousness of the things she'd say, fearful of scaring him away.

But that's what she had wanted to, wasn't it?

"Look… look at how _upset_ I make you. I never wanted _you_ of all people to be miserable because of me and-"

Shadow didn't whether to kill her and hit her upside the head so he settled for kissing her instead because he had started to crave it.

"You are so _stupid_." He breathed out, tucking her beneath him, and at the feel of him all she could do was try to pull him closer. Her arms snaked around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. "What am I going to do with you…?" He looked at the fire blazing in the hearth, leaking heat into them and burning with such ferocity. "It upsets me that you'd even think of spending for others when you need the money more than anyone. You could use it for something so much more-"

"I _know_ that, Shadow," Her felt the heat of her breath pulse against his neck and found himself unable to stop the shiver that ran down his body. "and I can't expect you to understand, but doing this makes me happy. Really happy. I love saving up and finding things for my friends and giving it to them and knowing all my hard work was well spent if I could use it to make _them_ happy. To me, it's worth so much more than another night with a meal."

She placed a hand on his chest, interrupting him from whatever he was going to say, "And I _know you can't understand that_. We're such different people… but doing this makes me feel more alive than that meal ever would. I don't need to live forever, but I want to have _lived_."

He stayed silent and just settled for holding her because he knew in her stubborn ways, nothing would deter her from her views.

"Idiot…" He gave out in a last retort and he felt her smile against him. He didn't understand her, and didn't want to understand why she put others over herself. It was not something he could appreciate. He settled for swimming his fingers along her fur, and wondering whether he should surprise her with chocolate pancakes or tacos.


End file.
